


Tiny Kitten Teeth

by lilmissmaya



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Father and Son, Gen, Longing, fuzzy kitten snufkin, happy end, joxter is an anxious dad, young dad au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:29:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmissmaya/pseuds/lilmissmaya
Summary: How is a young dad to take care of a baby on his own? thank heavens moominpappa is around. too bad the joxter is developing feelings towards his friend....short works I posted on tumblr, of Young Dad Joxter and his tiny fuzzy son, in no particular order and of questionable editing.





	1. Chapter 1

“Moomin” the joxter said, greatly upset. “You have to help me.”

The ball of fluff in his hands squirmed, yawning and showing a mouthful of tiny kitten teeth.

“Um, what is it?” carefully, moomin picked it up. 

“My son, the mymble just dropped him in my arms, said good luck and went off.”

“Are you sure he’s yours? He has a tail.” the red fluff squirmed more, opening his brown eyes to look around in mild alarm.

“I had a tail.” the joxter shrugged. “Until I got bigger and it fell off. What, doesn’t everyones?”

“No.” mooomin’s own swished “at least, I don’t think so…”

“Thing is moomin-” he took his son back, holding him like a football as he tried to squirm away. “I don’t know the first thing about- ow!” moomin caught the baby, who had sunk his little sharp teeth into the joxter’s hand. “About babies.”

The little sharp teeth couldn’t make it through moomin’s thick fur, so he tucked him into the crook of his elbow. “Neither do I…. but he might be hungry from the way he’s trying to get my arm. What do you feed little joxters?”

Bread soaked in milk seemed to go down well with the baby. (who was named snufkin, the joxter remembered after he calmed down.) 

Moomin, in the short time he’d known the joxter, had never seen him look so dejected. Everything about him drooped.

“What do I do with a baby?” snufkin had fallen back to sleep now that his belly was full, comfy in his father’s arms. 

“I guess…” he smoothed down the baby’s hair with a finger, smiling at the sleepy noises he made. “You stay here, I’ll help you with the baby.”

“Oh, thank you moomin.” he leaned into his friend. 

\----

Snufkin’s eyes were wide as he watched the fiend. It was white, moved enticingly just out of reach with an inviting tuft at the end. He must-  
He fluffed in anticipation, wiggling as he readied to defeat the fiend- and pounce! 

No! Tragedy! At the last moment it fled, out of reach again! Again he pounced! No! It seemed to know his attacks, moving out of reach just before he could sink his teeth into it! He squeaked angrily at it, letting the fiend know his anger at its deception!

“What if he actually catches your tail?” the joxter watched from the couch as his son kept doing battle with moomin’s tail-tuft. 

“He’ll tire himself out soon.” he replied calmly, carving a decorative knob as he play with the baby. 

Snufkin noticed his dad and squeaked at him too, as if demanding his assistance. 

“Ah, come here boy-o.” he swept him up with one hand to a flurry of indignite squeaks and growls. But they died down as he settled on joxter’s chest to chew on his shirt. Maybe just a nap now. “There we go, no more chewing on your papa’s tail.”

“Papa?” moomin looked up. 

“Uncle?” he corrected himself. “Don’t chew on your uncle’s tail.”

“Hm.” moomin went back to his carving, and the joxter looked down at his son, smiling sadly.

“Uncle.” he rubbed the top of the fuzzy head. “uncle.” 

\----

“Joxter, where’s the baby?”

“In here with me.” the joxter said hoarsely from the kitchen. He was sitting with baby snufkin at the table, attempting to feed him some oatmeal. The little one had other ideas, trying to stick his hands into the bowl to play with it. 

“You look terrible.” moomin picked up the baby, wiping his hands off despite a flurry of squeaks and growls in protest. 

“I think I’m dying.” he laid his head on the table. He looked pale and tired. Moomin shifted snufkin to one hip, feeling joxter’s forehead. 

“You’re not dying, you have a fever. Go to bed.”

“Kay.” he reached out for the baby, but moomin pushed his hands away. 

“No, you go rest, I’ll give him a bath.” he looked a little upset, the joxter was pretty reluctant to be away from his son for more that a few minutes at a time. (which was probably why he was looking so rough and tired right now. How much sleep was the joxter actually getting?) “shoo, he’ll be fine with me.”

“Just for a little while.” he didn’t look terrible convinced, but he dragged himself to moomin’s bed, flopping face down. 

The baby looked up at moomin, making a few confused chirps.

“Your daddy is getting a little sleep. Now for you-” there was oatmeal in the red fluff and up to his elbows, it looked like he had a good time trying to feed himself. 

The baby yowled when he was put into the warm water in protest. The indignity! The horror! Water! Soap! But then he realized he could splash in it and it wasn’t so bad. Moomin smiled a little, tickling his fuzzy little belly as he got the oatmeal out. 

“Imagine me, washing a baby in the sink.” he peered over his shoulder, checking on the joxter. He was still in the same position on the bed, face down. Poor guy…

There was a flash of soft feelings towards him, which was quickly put aside. More yowling as the baby was taken out of the water and dried off, put into a clean smock. He was having fun! How dare! Where was his father to avenge this insult? Wait… where was his father?

Then the yowling turned into wailing, squirming in moomin’s paws.

“Shhh, your daddy is trying to sleep…” the joxter made a noise, starting to sit up. “No you stay in bed. I have him.”

“He’s crying.”

“He’ll be fine! He’s just mad he’s not getting his way.” the crying was already dying down into tired hiccups. “sleep!” 

\-----

He smiled as moomin introduced the girl he rescued from the ocean, congratulated them. He was polite, happy for them. 

But when everyone was asleep, before the sun was up, he packed his things, got dressed. He wasn’t going to stay and pine, no, he was going to be more adult about this. If leaving without a word was the adult thing. 

Tears still were trying to well up.

No, it was stupid, his crush had been stupid. His hope that he could have a little family with someone had been- he rubbed at his eyes. He would not cry. He was not wanted and he would not stay.

“Come on little guy.” he’d thought about leaving snufkin behind, but- no, his son was his blood, his child. 

“Da?” snufkin asked sleepily before being tucked into the little sling joxter had rigged up. He settled down immediately. It helped, a bit, the warm child in his arms. Helped him feel a little less alone. 

He’d thought… maybe… no, nothing had ever happened between him and moomin. (why did it feel like he was dying anyway? There was a bad moment when he considered...but it passed.)

He snuck out in the watery pre-dawn light. No destination in mind, just… away. He and snufkin didn’t need anyone, they would be fine. 

He made himself a wreath of wildflowers for his hat, made himself sing a cheery song with the awakening birds. He would be fine. 

\-----

Life on the road was great, except for when it rained. It was the sort of cold early spring rain that was constant, the damp getting into everything joxter and snufkin owned. 

Snufkin was getting taller, not quite to joxter’s waist yet, and had lost most of his baby fuzz. (he looked like his mother.) and he was coming down with a cold. He looked miserable, sniffling and sneezing. Joxter sighed to himself. They needed to find someplace dry and warm, but this spring damp made everywhere miserable to sleep in. 

“Tired, boy-o?”

“A little.”

“Come’ere.” he picked his son up, letting him wrap his arms around his neck. He was getting tired too, but the baby smell of him was worth it. 

The path broke through the treeline bordering fields still fallow from winter. The wind , no longer blocked by the trees cut through his wet coat and he couldn’t suppress a shiver. But fields meant barns, and barns would be out of the wind at least. 

He found one, a well-built thing with an unlocked door. It was warm and full of sweet hay. He would have liked some tea to warm the both of them up, but alas. The hay made a nice nest, and snufkin curled up against his chest to sleep. 

It seemed that no sooner than joxter had closed his eyes, someone was opening the barn door and letting in light.

“Hey, who’s- oh!” snufkin had sat up, hay sticking out of his messy hair. “Hello little one!”

Joxter charmed their host, well, snufkin did most of it by being small and cute. They were invited in for breakfast. Snufkin sneezed miserably, and even joxter’s throat itched. Their host was more than happy to fuss over his son. 

“Do you like honey in your tea, dear?” their host asked snufkin. He hid his face in father’s coat. 

“He’s a bit shy, but he does like honey.” snufkin nodded and sneezed, face still buried. 

She wiggled her large ears in amusement. “I’ll put in plenty of honey then, and on your oatmeal too.”

“Thank you.” came the muffled reply.

Joxter did what he did best in exchange for food and a nice by a warm stove, telling stories, entertaining. Silly, but it meant a warm belly.  
They left the next morning. Snufkin was nearly over his cold and in much better spirits. He loved the woods, animals, singing about it all. if only the joxter felt so lively. His head was stuffy and throbbing, his throat was so sore it hurt to drink, much less eat. The lady at the farmhouse offered them another night, but it was important not to stay too longer in any one place. It was best not to wear out one’s welcome 

Even do, he considered after a fit of sneezing, another night on the warm kitchen floor would have been nice. At least the weather was better. 

\----

“Daaad?” the brim of his hat was lifted up, his son’s dark eyes close to his. “Are you sick?”

“Just a little under the weather, boy-o.” he smiled, but his son didn’t look convinced. Small, but stubborn. Mimicking their host from the previous day, he put his hand on the joxter’s forehead. So serious.

“I’m going to make you tea.” he declared. “Stay here.”

The joxter had no plans of moving from his little nest he’d made for a nap. But snufkin was getting an independent streak, gathering kindling and preparing a neat little fire all on his own. 

The tea was strong, some of the leaves still floating in the hot water, but snufkin looked so proud. He accepted the battered mug, moving as little as possible to avoid jarring his throbbing head. Stupid spring colds, they were the worst. But at least his son was there, tucked up against him with his own chipped cup.

“Are you going to be okay, dad?”

“Just a cold.” he kissed the top of the fuzzy head. “Thank you for the tea.”

There was a quick flash of regret. It’d be safer in a home, with a roof and a dry bed every night for his son… but on the other hand, would he get to see the owls hunt at night and be among the leaves as they changed? Watch fawns being born? Perhaps it was worth giving up safety for the beauty they had seen together. He missed moomin, but it’d died down to a dull ache. 

“How about you play a song for me?” snufkin puffed in excitement, setting down his mug and scrambling to find his harmonica in his pockets. A spring song for father and son.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somehow, this turned to angst. still not edited, just bits I wrote and posted piece by piece.

His cold was dropping into his chest, and joxter had to face a hard fact. If he got too sick, he couldn’t take care of snufkin. And the only place he had to go-  
Moomin’s house wasn’t terribly far away by joxter’s calculations, just a day or two at an easy walk. But he’d have to face...

Pride said no.

Shame and embarrassment said no. 

Love said he had to. 

 

Moominpappa wasn’t sure it was real. Joxter was standing on his porch, his son clutching at his coat. Same messy hair and blue eyes, same smile. The boy was taller, less fuzzy. Still had a tail peeking out from under his tunic. 

“Hey.” he croaked, “thought we’d stop by for a visit.”

Introductions were made, snufkin reluctantly being taken by the paw by a tiny moomin to be shown around. But the moment snufkin was out of sight, joxter collapsed onto moominpappa. 

“What the-” he caught his friend, realizing how wretched he looked. “Joxter!”

“Sorry moomin.” he mumbled, too hoarse to talk loudly. “I’ma little under the weather…”

“Under the weather! You look half dead! Come on.” oh he was angry, as he half-dragged him upstairs to a guest room. Disappeared with the baby and reappeared years later looking like he’d been dragged through a river. Not a word. 

“When was the last time you ate?” he felt thin as he helped him undress and his skin radiated heat. 

“Had a bit of soup last night. Hurts to swallow.” it sounded like it hurt him to breathe from the way he wheezed and coughed. “Can you take care of snufkin for me? Just for a little while.”

“Of course I will. I kept telling you to-” he swallowed down the anger, tucking blankets firmly around his friend’s shoulders. “You stay in bed. Momma will bring you some medicine and you need to take it.”

“Kay.” he mumbled, half asleep. Pappa couldn’t help it, smoothing rebellious hair out of his face. Oh he was angry, but there was relief. Both joxter and snufkin were back and in one piece, finally. 

 

Moomin was good fun, snufkin decided. The valley was nice too, lots of places to nose around and explore. Dad said they might stay here for a while, until he got better. There were worse places to be, he supposed.

“You used to live here when you were very little.” moominpappa declared over a tray of jam rolls. Snufkin and moomin looked up, smeared liberally with the jam already. 

“I did?”

“Yup. I used to wash you up in that sink over there. You’d put up a huge fuss every time.”

“Huh.” he pondered this. The house was vaguely familiar, and dad had mentioned it from time to time. 

 

He thought about it later, when he and moomin were put to bed. And it was weird, to try to sleep without his dad. They’d always slept together under the same blanket, curled up against each other. Moomin was very soft and very sweet but-

He waited until he was sure his friend was asleep before sneaking out of the room and down the hall. He had to at least see him before he tried to sleep, make sure he was okay.

“Dad?” he peered into the guest room. There was a rustle and-

“Boy-o? What are you doing up?” he trotted over, crawling into bed with him. Joxter hugged him close. “Mmmm. much better.” Snufkin giggled.

“I saved you a jam bun.” he pulled it out of a sticky pajama pocket, slightly squished. 

“Thank you.” he said seriously, putting it on the nightstand for later.

“Dad-” he snuggled in with him, like they always did. “So we used to live here with I was very little, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“So why did we leave?”

“Grown up things.” there was so much to say and it hurt to talk. 

“Huh.” he yawned, it had been a busy day. “She’s gonna make pancakes…” 

\---

“Pappa,” she pulled him aside after supper, as the kids were eating their pudding. “You need to go talk to joxter.” He grumbled and avoided her eyes, paws fiddling with the brim of his hat. “I’m serious, I’m worried he’ll… give up.”

“Why me?”

“Well, you’re the one that broke his heart.” pappa stiffened. 

“That’s not…”

“Darling, one doesn’t run off in the middle of the night without some heartbreak.” especially after being introduced to the future wife, she thought. “Go talk to him.”

Reluctantly, pappa made his way up the stairs. It was easier to be angry at him for taking the baby than to admit he might have ignored things. Or to admit maybe it wasn’t just about the baby. 

The joxter looked like he was asleep, buried deep in the covers. So he settled in a chair next to him, smoothing rebellious hair out of his face again. 

“Moomin.” he murmured, opening his eyes. He sounded a little better… or maybe pappa was telling himself that to feel better. “How’s snufkin doing?”

“He’s having fun with moomin and sniff. Running wild all over the valley.”

“Oh good.” he coughed, scrunching his face up in pain.

“You’re not giving up on me, are you? You need to get better for your son.” he smoothed back his hair again, letting his paw linger there. “Our boy. Did you have to take our boy and leave?”

“You brought her home.” and his face crumpled, too tired to hold back the tears anymore. “And you loved her…”

“Joxter… you should have said something.” pappa had known. It had been easier to put someone between the two of them instead of addressing it.  
“Why? You didn’t feel the same.”

“but I didn’t want you to leave. I promised to help you with snufkin, remember?” a weak cop out, but true. He did promise. He didn’t want joxter to leave, not then, not now. 

\----

Joxter was having such a nice dream. He was warm, snufkin laying on his chest, moomin on one side. He was cozy, nothing hurt. Someone was yelling for him and he did his best to ignore it. He was finally comfortable, but they wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Reality was so much worse. Moominmamma was putting something to his lips, insisting he drink it. But as dry as his mouth was, he tried to push it away. Drinking just hurt and he wanted to go back to that dream and get away from all this. But she kept at it until he took a mouthful. It burned going down, he tried to push her paw away again. Why wouldn’t she let him go back to sleep? He just wanted to sleep a little longer, be away from all this.

“Joxter.” she said sharply, tilting his head to face her. “Joxter, you need to drink.”

He tried to mumble a protest, but noise didn’t want to come out. 

“Look at me, joxter. Look at me.” he focused hazily on her, it took more effort than he’d like to admit. “If you love snufkin, you’ll drink the medicine and drink some soup. You need to get better.”

They were all probably better off without him, he thought foggily. Snufkin could have siblings and a home and two parents. He was so tired… tears spilled out without his permission.

She pressed again, and he reluctantly drank the medicine, drank soup. He was rewarded with a cool paw on his forehead, a soft kiss. Was it strange to say he was hungry for even that little bit of affection? Sleep pulled him down before he could think of much else, back to the warm dreams. 

 

“Dad?” joxter woke up immediately at the familiar voice. His son smiled from the doorway and padded over, a wilted flower wreath tilted over one eye. “I bought you juice! Momma made lots. And a bun, it just has butter and honey in it, no jam this time.”

“Thank you.” he said, hazily. It was hard to focus, his son’s face swimming in and out. He helped joxter drink the juice, he was thirsty enough to ignore how hard it was to swallow. He just… couldn’t seem to get the glass steady on his own. 

“Dad?” he sounded worried, crawling into bed with him. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course, boy-o.” joxter said softly, pulling him close. This little bit exhausted him, but it was comforting to have him snuggled up to his chest. He could have easily fallen asleep again, but the door opened.

“Snufkin.” moominmamma said quietly. “Your dad’s tired, let’s give him some space.”

“No.” his son said, stubbornly. “I’m staying.”

“Snufkin.” she picked him up anyway He started squalling, fighting and squirming against her.

“It’s okay, he can stay-” joxter tried to get up from the bed, take back his son to soothe him. To his surprise, his legs wouldn’t hold him up and he went down-

Moominmama took snufkin out of the room as pappa went in, the child now scared and upset even more and wailing at the top of his lungs. Joxter was laying on the ground, breath coming in short huffs.

“Joxter!” he knelt down next to him, pulling his head onto his lap. He was shaking with the effort, and clung to pappa as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. “Easy, easy there.”

“I can’t-” he gasped “dying-”

“You’re not dying.” he reassured him, stroking his hair. 

 

The warm feelings for moomin started… oh he couldn’t pin down a time. But when he realized what they were, when he watched him play with the baby- his chest felt warm, full to the point of bursting with affection for him. He was in love with moomin.  
Getting the words out were harder. Saying Love was not something joxter did, deep emotions, stuff like that- he had flings. He did not have relationships. He almost had one with the Mymble, but neither of them had been the type to settle for one. But joxter was feeling-

Perhaps-

Moomin was cooking at the stove, concentrating on something that smelt only a little burnt. He came up behind him, hugged him close. He was warm and plush- and moomin pushed him away, distracted. 

“Not now, it’s almost time for dinner. I think it’s done-” Embarrassed, joxter retreated. Another time. 

The other time didn’t work well either. Sprawled out on the couch, leaning up against each other- moomin idly playing with joxter’s hair as he read. The warmth in his chest threatened to spill out if he didn’t- he took moomin’s paw and kissed his wrist. Moomin snatched his paw away, eyes wide in surprise.

“Joxter! Don’t be silly like that!”

“I-” he almost said it. But embarrassment rose up, moomin didn’t… he didn’t. He moved off the couch quickly, scooping up his son. “Sorry about that. Come on, snufkin, let’s take a nap.”

“You’re such a tease, joxter, it’s not nice.”

That warmth in his chest turned painful, a knot under his breastbone. 

They didn’t mention it, joxter was too ashamed to try anything more. It was a physical pain in his chest, the longing. There was a deep, overwhelming feeling of unworthiness. It was easier to focus all his energy on his baby, to avoid facing the feelings. (because if he did, he might start crying and joxter didn’t cry. He /would not/ cry about this no matter how much it threatened to strangle him.) Her, moominmaiden, just pushed everything over the edge. And maybe he didn’t take as good of care of himself after that. He knew he had to be healthy to take care of snufkin but-

Joxter was ragdoll limp for the next day and night. His fever flared high, he was pale as wax and his breathing wheezed with the effort. Moominpappa didn’t leave him, sitting next to him, soothing whatever fever-induced nightmares made him cry out. 

It was a close thing. 

The sun rose, and joxter’s fever broke.

Moomin was half asleep, joxter’s head on his shoulder, arm wrapped around him. It seemed easier for him to breath half-sitting up like that. 

“If I knew being sick’d get me like this, I’d been sick earlier.” joxter slurred into moominpappa’s neck. 

“Joxter!” he jerked awake, relief washing over him. 

“water? Thirsty…” moomin had cold tea on paw, joxter drank it down without a stop.

“You gave me a scare there.” he smoothed back the sweat-dampened hair. “You… you…”

“Sorry moomin.” he closed his eyes, face in moomin’s neck, like those few words exhausted him.


	3. Chapter 3

Joxter wasn’t sleeping well. Snufkin had declared he was too old to be sleeping with his dad, moving into little moomin’s room. Fair enough, but joxter found himself unable to sleep without him there. The nights were very long.

Being around moominpappa was… hard. He’d leave, but snufkin threw a fit. He had friends, he had a home for the first time and he didn’t want to leave. Joxter couldn’t take that from him. But it was a constant loneliness, from being so close and unable to touch. Anticipation used to be the best part of a coming together. Imagining a caress, a kiss- anticipation, desire and no resolution was torture. 

Maybe he should find the Mymble, her bed would be warm and welcoming. It’d be a distraction, a release. Get it out of his system. But for some reason it didn’t appeal to him. It wasn’t what he really wanted. 

Moominmamma found him sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a cup of coffee. He didn’t notice her, lost in thought or just starting off into space and chewing on his fingernail. He looked… lost. Not the normal cheerfulness he had around them. 

“Joxter?” he jumped in his seat and turned to look at her, and for a moment she saw his sadness before the mask came up. 

“Morning!” he said with a smile. “Coffee?” he was trying, he was trying very hard.

“Joxter.” she said quietly. “You look tired.”

She watched him sink into himself, looking down at the floor. “Insomnia.” he said quietly. “Its nothing.”

“Let me cook you some breakfast. Maybe that will help.”

“I have coffee.”

“Coffee isn’t food.” she pulled out the frying pan, eggs, bacon. “You don’t feed yourself as well as you feed snufkin.”

“He’s a growing boy.” he said “needs it more than I do.”

“You still need to eat.” she added a piece of stale bread to the bacon fat in the pan to fry up. He didn’t have the energy to argue. She was right after all.   
She cooked up the food and slid it onto a plate for him. 

“Oh joxter, what happened here?” she took his hands before he could hide them. He’d chewed the nails down to the quick, the skin around them sore and bleeding. 

“It’s nothing.” he pulled away, half embarrassed, half because her paws were soft and she was being very nice and he desperately wanted comfort. anyone's comfort at this point.

“They look sore. I have salve I can put on them.”

“They don’t hurt. It’s just a bad habit.” a new one, one he couldn’t stop. 

She sighed, and sat across from him. “Eat.”

He did, more because she was watching him than any hunger. (although, it was nice.)

“Joxter,” she started, once he had finished the food, “what is going on between you and my husband?”

“Nothing.” that was true. Nothing was going on between them and that was exactly the problem. 

“For nothing, you seem miserable and he’s jumpy as a cat by a rocking chair.” she propped her chin on a paw. “I know you left the same night I came. You had feelings for him?”

“I thought-” he chewed on a thumbnail without thinking, his stomach twisting as he finally said it out loud. “I thought he wanted to be a family. With me and snufkin.” he nipped down hard enough to draw blood. “He didn’t-” and his courage failed him. Couldn’t say it out loud, it was bad enough rattling around in his head. He hadn’t been wanted. He wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough to be loved. He pushed away from the table, standing up. That knot in his chest was back and he didn’t know how to handle it, except to run away from it. “I’ll go. Snufkin wants to stay here, he’ll be better off here. I’ll go and-”

“Stop. you’re bleeding.” he blinked and looked down at his hand, he hadn’t noticed it. Heavily, he sat back down. She found the salve, dressed and bandaged his fingers, wiped his face with her thumb. Oh. he was crying. 

“Have you ever had a family before, joxter?”

“No.” would it be more of a relief or an embarrassment to be told his feelings weren’t real? That knot hurt, he rubbed at it to make it go away. 

“Had you ever been in love?”

“No.” he said, very softly. “I thought I was.”

“I think you are. No one else runs away like that when introduced to a future wife.” she sighed. “And I think pappa knew that you were in love with him. And I think, well, he does love you in a way. Enough to be upset you left, upset that you were so sick.”

Somehow… it was almost worse. She must have seen it on his face, she pulled him to her to hug him tightly. He was hungry for it, to be held tightly, for comfort like this. He closed his eyes and sunk into it. 

\----

“Joxter, you need some new clothes.” moominmamma said, pulling out her sewing machine.

“No, these are fine.” he lied, knowing full well he’d repaired his sleeve for the fourth time this week. And Sniff’s little claws buried in his shirt weren’t doing it any favors. He patted the child’s back, trying to soothe him after a nasty prank by Little My. Sniff sniffled and clung to him more. 

“You should have some pretty clothes!” snufkin declared. “A shirt with flowers and a red dress!”

“Maybe just a shirt.” joxter winced a little as he tried to shift Sniff in his arms, feeling the old fabric tear again. “But really, you don’t have to-”

She looked at him, then put her paws around his waist to measure it. He froze, face burning. 

“I think a red dress too.” moomin added in. 

“We’ll see.” she said, attempting to measure his arms while he held Sniff at the same time. “You need pants too.”

“Okay.” he said quietly, trying not to look at her. 

“Are you okay, dad? Your face is red.” snufkin sounded worried. 

“Yes!” he pulled away from moominmamma. “How about cocoa?!” he said, much too quickly and much too loud.

“Cocoa?” Sniff cheered at the thought of a treat.

“Cocoa for everyone then.” he pulled away from mamma, rushing towards the kitchen. 

“Mamma have you seen-” pappa came down the stairs, nearly running into joxter. They both froze for a moment, suddenly at a loss for words.

“We’re having cocoa.” moomin piped up, confused by their awkwardness. The kids knew something was up, but not what it was. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! It is awfully damp today.” pappa said, a little too loudly. 

“I can make you some.” joxter offered quietly. The warmth was back in his chest. Snufkin frowned, looking between the two, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

“Yes, thank you, I’d love cocoa. Mamma, there you are! Have you seen my inkwell?”

“Something is going on.” snufkin told his friends from under the porch. “The grown-ups are acting funny.”

“Your dad is always funny.” Sniff said, licking the last of the cocoa out of his mug. “He’s got good jokes!”

“Not that kind of funny, weird funny. He turns red around mamma and pappa alot.”

“You don’t think he’s still sick?” moomin asked. 

“I dunno.” he pondered. 

“Snork turns red around girls he likes.” they pondered this. “You don’t think your dad likes momma and pappa, do you?”

“I dunno.” he cuddled up to moomin. “Maybe that’s why he’s been sad. I’ll ask him later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are alot of complicated feelings here on pappa's part.

Insomnia was the worst. He could doze a bit, here and there, but nothing long or deep. It was wearing him down, making him irritable even with his son. The best sleep he managed was on the floor with the kids one afternoon, napping away the heat of the day. 

He just wanted some sleep. 

The kids had their own rooms, but most of the time they piled together in one bed for the night. He’d wrapped up in a blanket, sitting by their bed. He was half asleep-

“Joxter?” he jerked awake, a flash of irritation rose. He just wanted to sleep and- “what are you doing in there?”

Moominpappa was in the doorway, looking at him in confusion. The irritation drained out, no energy to back it up. So much for sleep. 

“Can’t sleep.” he accepted a paw up, stiff from sitting on the floor. 

“You look tired. Go to bed.” bed was the worst place to be now. He didn’t want to be alone on top of everything. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

“I don’t need you to tuck me in.” he rubbed his eyes, annoyed again about how close he had been to sleeping. “I just can’t sleep by myself anymore.”

Pappa glanced back at the children, snufkin sprawled out on top of moomin in the boneless way children do. He took a moment, sighed, then- 

“I’ll lay down with you, for a little while.”

“No.”

“Yes. you need some rest or you’ll get sick again.”

“Stop, I can’t take it.” he sniffed, rubbing his face again. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but his heart was sore. 

“Joxter.” pappa took his face between his paws. “This is a mess and I don’t know what to do. So please… let me do this for you.”

He slumped, no fight left in him. “Okay.”

The bed was narrow, the fit tight with the two of them sharing it. But at the same time, they fit together so well, his head on pappa’s shoulder. Pappa’s paw rested on his waist, stroked upwards and excitement grew despite himself. And-

Pappa sighed to himself, joxter had fallen asleep the moment he had laid down. His arm was well and truly pinned under him too. 

There were… a lot of confused feelings there. He cared, and cared a lot about the joxter, but… oh what was he going to do? He wasn’t going to send him away, the man was a disaster. The road was no place for a small child, but without snufkin, he wasn’t sure joxter would take care of himself. Joxter was an adult and should be responsible for himself, pappa told himself. He was not responsible for him or his life. That was not love. 

But he found himself running his free paw on joxter’s cheek, stroking the lines and planes of his face. Life on the road and illness had sharpened his features, made him look older. It was attractive. Who was he kidding, he always found him attractive, which is exactly why he put moominmamma in between them. It had been dumb and impulsive and had worked much too well. 

He should wiggle his arm free and go back to his wife in their roomier bed. It wouldn’t solve anything. Staying here wouldn’t do much else besides get joxter’s hopes up, he’d just wanted to give him some comfort. For a moment, joxter had looked so sad and tired, and it’d tugged on him. (and that warm thing, the almost love he denied he felt had come up like years before.)

Carefully, he shifted joxter off his shoulder, pulled the blankets over him and tucked him in. 

Momma was going to murder him.


	5. Chapter 5

Moominmamma was going to murder both of them, but not for the reasons they thought she would. She could see it, the way they avoided each other with purposeful movements. Joxter pretended to be okay, try to take on the job of watching and entertaining the group of children she adopted. He was good at the entertaining part, not so much at keeping them out of trouble. 

But still, he was trying to make himself useful, even if it was mostly to keep himself busy. Papa was avoiding him, pulling away from everyone to work on his memoirs, and getting nothing done in the meanwhile. 

It was tempting to lock them in a room and tell them to get it out of their systems. While it was fun to read about mutual pining, it was starting to get annoying.

Joxter wasn’t bad looking, although he was no moomin. No soft white curves to him. But he was good with the children, she decided, as he braided a flower crown for snorkmaiden. He caught her looking at him and turned red, turning back to his project.

Hm. 

“Joxter? Do you want coffee?” he hunched over further and mumbled something into his hands, she took it as a yes. 

She brought out two mugs, one for her and one for him and settled down with him on the porch stairs. His furless-ness made it easy to see him blush when she brushed up against him. 

“Here you go, kiddo.” he placed the daisy chain on her head, shooed her off to join the others playing some sort of tag game. 

“I sweetened it for you.”

“Thank you.” he mumbled, taking the mug. 

“It’s been a big help, you watching the children. You’re very good with them.”

“Sorry about all the mud the other day.”

“Well, you know children and mud.”

“.... thank you for letting us stay.”

“Everyone’s welcome here. Especially you and snufkin.” she smiled at him and leaned against him. He stiffened- then leaned back against her. 

It was quiet for a while as she sipped her coffee before the kids peered over at them.

“I think dad’s asleep!” snufkin whispered to momma. Indeed, the joxter was snoring softly against her shoulder. 

“Oh my.” she smiled. “I guess I’ll have to stay here for a while until he’s finished his nap.”

“I think dad likes you. He keeps turning red around you.” snufkin pulled his hat down over his face. “Do you like dad?”

“Hmmm…” she made an act of thinking about it. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh!” he pulled his hat back up. “Does that mean you can be my momma too?”

“If you want, snufkin, I’ll be happy to be your momma.”

“Moomin! Moomin! We have the same momma now!” he scrambled off, yelling for moomin. 

“Why did you tell him that?” joxter mumbled, apparently not that asleep after all.

“Everyone calls me momma. Here, you have something on your cheek.” she turned his face towards her, wiping his cheek with her thumb- then leaned in and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “There.”

“I…you’re married.”

She sighed, and tugged him to his feet. “Let’s find pappa. Pappa!”

The joxter meekly followed her into the kitchen as pappa answered her call. The two made eye contact for a second, then looked away. 

“Now.” she put her paws on her hips. “Pappa, you love me, but you also love joxter.” he mumbled and shuffled before looking up.

“Yes.”

“And joxter loves pappa, but I do not think he finds me so bad to be around either.” he looked at her through his hair, as if he could not trust what he thought he heard. Pappa looked from her to joxter, understanding dawning.

“And you, my love?”

“Of course I love pappa, and I think I want to know joxter better.” she took a paw from each in one of her own. Pappa softened, reaching with his free paw for joxter, to bring him closer to him and his wife. 

“I missed you, I… want you to stay with us.”

“Is it really okay?” the joxter looked at mamma, who nodded.

“As long as you two stop moping around.” she teased. “Hugs, then I need to start on dinner. Pappa will you help joxter wash up the children?”

“Of course, mamma.”

 

From outside the kitchen door, the children watched this, all rather pleased. 

“Dad’s smiling!” snufkin announced, none too quietly to the ones who couldn’t see as well. “And hugging mamma and pappa!”

“Does that mean you’re staying?” moomin peered over his friend’s head. “Ew, kissing.”

“I think so! Now we have the same pappa and dad.”

“Does this mean dinner will be soon?” sniff was very anxious for the more interesting things, ie, food. Snufkin shook his head, and watched the grown ups hug and rub noses. This was more important than supper. This meant dad would be happy and everything would be okay.

This meant they were home.


End file.
